CHAPTER THIRTEEN: HUMOR ME

"I can make it back to the hotel on my own just fine, Hotch," Emily argued as they exited the small eatery, thumbing the electronic key to the SUV.

"I know that," Hotch replied earnestly, opening her car door for her when he heard the doors unlock, "but I don't need to be back yet, and, frankly, it would make me feel better to go with you."

"Hotch, I'm going to be okay," Emily insisted, turning around in the doorway of the car to face him. "I know that contradicts all of the evidence, especially considering that every time I see you, I cry all over you and ruin your clothes, but I'm going to be okay," she persisted.

Hotch elected to ignore the bit about her crying, unwilling to admit that he'd been flattered – on both occasions – at the fact that she had invested enough faith in him to not only cry in front of him, but to fall against him for comfort. "I know that," he said again.

"Okay, then – "

Hotch cut her off, then, and said, "But it would still make me feel better to see you back to your room."

Emily cracked a small smile and looked up at him with incredulous amusement. Hotch's hands were once again framing the car door, only this time he wasn't trying to coax her out of the car, he was essentially trapping her in it – or, more accurately, trapping her into having this conversation. "What is this, high school prom?" She deflected.

Confused, Hotch furrowed his brows and waited for an explanation.

"Nothing – just the escorting me home thing… Sort of seems like something a horny teenager would say after prom," Emily elaborated, then interrupted herself and shook her head. "Forget it, it's not important."

The corners of Hotch's mouth twitched into a reluctant smile, and Emily smiled back up at him, pleased. She knew he'd been worried about her; she was worried about her, so he wasn't wrong to be. But they'd all been so tense, and so somber after learning about her father. She had been more tense and somber than anyone else, so she couldn't fault them for it. Nevertheless, the shadow of a smile on Hotch's face had been a relief from the sorrow that she hadn't thought she'd be able to find, and that made her feel hopeful. It was the first opportunity she'd been given to feel a little bit of humor since the Pandora's Box of Her Past had been opened.

"Still," Hotch pushed, continuing on even as he watched his agent roll her eyes, "I'm saying please, Emily."

Genuine eyes bore into hers, and for all of her independence, Emily couldn't tell him no. She hated that he was so worried about her, but if he needed to take her back to the hotel to give him some sort of psychological comfort, she couldn't deny him that. He had done a lot for her – particularly in the past couple of days – and if this could help him get back to where he needed to be, emotionally, in order to work this case, then she could sacrifice a little bit of self-sufficiency for that.

"Okay," she replied gently, but then held up her finger and jabbed it into his chest, "but after that, you go back to the station to help out."

Hotch looked down at her finger and blinked, inquiring – with a puzzled, but mildly amused look on his face, "Did you just poke me?"

He watched as her lips curved into a tender smile, and she flattened her palm against his chest. When she looked up, her eyes were dark and Hotch felt his breath catch, for just a second, at the sincerity she held in them.

"Thank you, Aaron," she whispered up at him softly.

"What for?" He asked delicately, his brow furrowed as the comicality of their conversation seemed to pause, in favor of…. whatever Emily was trying to say to him.

She shrugged and slid into the car, smiling up at him even behind her exhausted eyes. "For escorting me to my room like a horny teenage boy after prom."

Hotch laughed and shut the car door behind her, grabbing his own keys from his pocket as he lowered himself to the window that Emily had just opened. "I was a perfect gentleman after my prom, for the record."

"Hotch, I don't think anyone could seriously accuse you of being anything but a gentleman," Emily said, that charming smile still coating her amused words with honesty, and, once again, Hotch felt flattered even though he was sure that it was improper.

"I'll meet you at the hotel," he said, lifting himself from the window and walking toward his car.

Once he was settled in it, Hotch waited for Emily to pull out before he followed, while reaching for his cell phone to put in a call to Rossi.

"Rossi," he heard his friend gruff.

"Dave, it's Hotch."

"Hey," Rossi replied, sounding tired and concerned. "How's Emily?"

"She's…. going to be okay, I think," Hotch answered hesitantly.

"Did she say anything?" Rossi countered.

"Nothing pertinent to the case," Hotch decided. "But I'm feeling a little better about leaving her at the hotel for a few hours without company."

"You are?" Dave sounded surprised. "She seemed really…. not good when she stopped by, Aaron."

"I know," Hotch said, frowning.

"So what convinced you that she would be alright alone?" Dave urged, not criticizing his decision, but curious about how he arrived at it.

"We had lunch," Hotch responded.

Dave didn't push for more, despite that he desperately wanted to, and despite that Hotch was – as always – being unnecessarily cryptic with his responses. He was sure that Hotch would never break Emily's confidence if he could help it, and Dave wouldn't ask him to. Emily had enough trust issues as it was. He wasn't looking to add to that. He just wanted to know how she was doing.

Instead of forcing Hotch into an awkward position, though, he offered, "We've been talking to people for the past couple of hours and have been able to verify a few of the rumors about the victims. It's a serious break for us, I think. The UNSUB sees himself as some sort of avenger of the common man. Morgan and I have been working on the profile, and we think his trigger had something to do with Lavor, the health commissioner."

"Why's that?" Hotch inquired.

"Well, the health commissioner was the first one found, and as far as the medical examiners can tell us, he was also the first one to die. We've also found a number of witnesses and reports that confirm that Lavor had just recently declined to decontaminate a hospital downtown that was exposed to anthrax, which – "

"Caused it to close," Hotch finished for him, taking a turn onto the highway.

"Right. Anyway, that's our best lead so far. While the others were crooked politicians, mostly, they appear to have not pissed anyone off too much in the last few months. Also, as I understand, there were a serious number of citizens in an uproar because of the hospital shutting down. Apparently it hosted one of the largest free clinics in the city. As far as I can tell, the clinic mostly saw a lot of the stomach flu, but some of the former employees tell me that a good majority of their other patients were rape victims."

"Which could be how all of this ties back to Emily," Hotch concluded.

"That was my line of thinking," Dave replied. "I'll let you know if anything comes up."

"I'm actually headed back to the station shortly. I'm just taking Emily back to the hotel first, so I should be there in about half an hour."

The line was quiet for a moment, so Hotch checked to see if his colleague was still around. "Dave?"

"We really do have a hold on things here. If you wanted to stay with Emily, I mean…"

Hotch wanted to stay with her, but he wasn't sure that he should. For that matter, he wasn't sure that Emily would let him stay. Besides, he should at least check on the team and see the physical evidence for himself. But he didn't want to deny the opportunity, just in case he did decide to stay with her.

"I'll let you know," Hotch stated. "I'm afraid I might start crowding her soon, so I'll feel out the situation and get back to you. Until then, can you have Garcia send me a list of names for the hospital's former employees?"

"Sure," Dave replied. "Listen, Aaron, we're all really worried about her. And… I guess I can't speak for the rest of the team, but I think we would all feel a little bit calmer if we knew that Emily wasn't dealing with this alone. She already shook off JJ and Garcia, otherwise I'd send them to look out for her, but if she's letting you hang around… Well, I'm just saying I wouldn't leave her side until she made me."

She was trying to make him, Hotch thought. But Rossi was right; if he could stay – if they didn't need him, if she wasn't forcibly shoving him out of the door – then he ought to. He'd already proven at the crime scene that he was clearly distracted by her health. At least this way he could help out on the case with information from Dave, and he could see for himself that Emily was alright – and if she wasn't, he could be there for her.

"Thanks, Rossi. I'll call you back."

He ended the call with good timing as they pulled into the lot of the hotel. He watched Emily hop out from her car and shut the door before he slid into the vacant parking space beside her.

When he stepped out of his own vehicle, he decided not to let Emily know about what Rossi had told him until later. She hadn't really stopped crying since they'd stumbled upon her father's rotting corpse, and since she couldn't really help out with the investigation too much, Hotch wanted to let her enjoy her tear-free moments.

"Are you actually going to walk me to my room?" Emily joked lightly.

"Yes," Hotch replied sternly.

"Seriously?" Emily posed. "I can walk to the room, you know," she said, gesturing to the hotel building behind her with the room key she'd just pulled from her purse.

"Humor me, Prentiss," Hotch chuckled.

Emily shook her head, but zipped her purse up and began the short trek from the parking lot to the build, Hotch in tow.

"I spoke with Rossi. He said that they have a few new leads, but that they have it pretty much taken care of at the station," Hotch extended, his voice measured and careful.

Emily stopped, and turned to look up at him, but Hotch had been close beside her, and so now she was just very close to him.

"Hotch," she said slowly, trifling through her vocabulary to find the words that she needed, "it's becoming pretty clear to me how affected the team is by my past, and I'm grateful to have people who care so openly and freely for me… but you guys are here to do a job, and while I am clearly unable to help with it, if you're needed there, you should go."

"I've never lied to you, Emily. I've expressed skepticism and concern, I've offered help when I thought it was needed, but I've never lied to you, and I don't intend to start now," Hotch shared. "So I'll say that honestly, I think they could use a hand at the station – but I also think that they'll be able to concentrate a lot better if they're not worried about you, alone in your hotel room and making plans for the funeral of the man who abused you. And while I think I could help them by being there, I also feel that I can help them and you by being here. And I'd like to be here. But I won't force company on you that you don't want or that you're uncomfortable with."

Emily evaluated him with dark eyes, and Hotch tried to discern emotion from them, but there were too many there, and then suddenly there were none, so he waited for her to reply and hoped for the best.

"It's your call, Aaron," she said simply, and turned back to head into the hotel.

Thank God, Hotch thought. After spending some time with her, he wasn't sure that he wanted to be anywhere else right now, when it seemed obvious that Emily needed people, and not the isolation that she seemed to crave.

Author's Note: I'm awful, I know. I just haven't been able to get into my writing for a while. I'm sorry, guys. If any of you have stuck around, you're magical human beings. If not, well... It's been a while, so I certainly can't blame you.

Review if you can! I tried very hard, but I'm not sure if I was able to get back into my characters. Keep in mind, though, that this was supposed to be a lighter chapter, in the face of all the anguish.